


Has the moon lost her memory?

by marlowe78



Series: Parallel issues [7]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Donna Noble - Freeform, F/M, Gen, Rose and her Doctor talk about Donna, The Doctor & Donna Noble Friendship, carpets, how do I tag this?, making decisions for others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22508734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marlowe78/pseuds/marlowe78
Summary: "You’re saying that if Donna could only be saved by taking her memories, her own thoughts on that matter were more important than the outcome, in this case saving her life. Am I right?”Stunned, Rose nodded.“Well, in that case, I maintain my stance: that’s horseshit.”
Relationships: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Series: Parallel issues [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1521308
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27





	Has the moon lost her memory?

**Author's Note:**

> _Name of the fic comes, once again, from the musical 'Cats'._

If asked, Rose would always say that the conversation – or fight, or maybe argument, even – had started with a carpet. More accurately, it had started with dinner at her family’s house during which her mom had complained that Pete had bought a new carpet without asking her opinion on colour and design. 

_”But I thought you hated the old one, Jackie?”_ Pete’d said, confused, and her mom had looked at him with that slightly annoyed, slightly pitying look that was a Jackie-Tyler-trademark. She’d forced a smile and petted Pete’s arm. 

_”I did, but that’s not the point, darling.”_

Despite Rose making frantic signs to her father to drop it, Pete had asked on. _”Well, what is the point then?”_

”It’s about making decisions for us without consulting me! You chose the carpet and had it laid out without even asking my input.”

_”But you_ like _the carpet! You said you did!”_

And her mom had smiled indulgently and served Tony some more peas and finally the topic had been dropped. 

Dropped, that is, until the Doctor, in this infinite naivety he sometimes exhibited, had brought it up again on their way out _”I don’t know what you have against the carpet, Jackie. It’s really a big improvement to the old one,”_ he’d said. 

_”Of course, sweetheart,”_ her mom had said, rolling her eyes. _” I didn’t expect you to understand the problem, so … have a nice weekend. Maybe Rose can explain.”_ For which Rose would have to ‘thank’ her, later, because it certainly wasn’t what she’d wanted to spend the night on. 

Of course the Doctor had asked her in the car, and she’d tried to explain that it wasn’t the carpet, it was making the decision for Jackie, even though it was as much her house as Pete’s.   
And _that_ had led to him saying smugly that he never made such decisions without consulting Rose, to which she had snorted even though his decision-making for her had indeed never ever involved carpeting – and he’d been silent and baffled until they’d reached home. 

Which is where they were now, she on the couch with her feet on the small table and he standing at the doorway, both hands full with their wine-glasses. 

“You truly think that I make too many decisions above your head?” he asked, and Rose took a deep breath, debating internally if it was worth the squabble that would follow. On the one hand, it was rather late, and fighting with the Doctor was exhausting and mentally challenging and it usually led to complete knackeredness and often emotional pain. On the other hand, once they resolved the issue and came to a solution or a compromise, up-till-then invisible kinks in their gears were smoothed, leading to a much better relationship on the whole. 

“Well, you tend to do that. I don’t know about too much, to be honest, but you certainly do it a lot.” Apparently, her brain had decided that it would be worth it. So… let’s see what would happen. Rose stretched her hand out and wriggled her fingers and the Doctor gave her the glass of wine and took his own seat in the old armchair. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and took a sip, obviously thinking. 

“To be fair,” Rose continued, “it’s mostly a trait of the other Doctor. Human-you is less patronizing.” 

The Doctor frowned and took another sip. “I… well. I can’t honestly remember instances like that. Do you mean making decisions on where we went with the Tardis?”

Sagging more heavily against the sofa-cushions on her back, Rose looked up to the ceiling to gather her thoughts. So far, this wasn’t a proper fight and the Doctor seemed to seek understanding, not defence. “No, not that. I mean, I had no idea what we could possibly see, so … but it wasn’t that. It’s more the big things. Decisions you made for me, without even asking my view on them.”

“Like what?”

“Well, sending me back home with the emergency-protocol springs to mind! Back on Satellite Five.”

“Ah,” he frowned again and leaned back, pulling his feet up underneath his thighs. “That.”

“Yeah. That.” Now Rose was getting a little annoyed. The matter-of-factness he displayed about such a major decision reminded her that they had never talked about that, and that she was still cross. “You didn’t even ask what I wanted, just did what you thought was right! I had no say, and it was _my_ life you were meddling in! It was a big thing for me, and honestly, I’m still not quite over that.”

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “Really? You compare me trying to save your life with your father buying a carpet?” He shook his head, looking honestly baffled. “And here I thought I was finally getting a hang on humans. Is that truly similar in your view?”

She wriggled her nose. “No, of course not. It’s a lot bigger than a carpet. But the concept is similar – you decided something that concerned mostly me without asking my opinion on the matter!” 

Looking taken aback, the Doctor took a moment to answer. When he finally did, his voice was soft and a bit sad. “It doesn’t _just_ concern you. Like the carpet – your father has to live with the choice just as much as your mother does. Same for the Game Station: if you had decided to die, it would have concerned me very, very much. Me and my life, too. And _other_ than a carpet, I couldn’t have ripped it out and put another one in. Me deciding for you in that moment was what led to you coming back and looking into her heart. If you hadn’t done that, I would have destroyed all the Daleks and all on that world, killed everyone in reach of the blast. You would have been safe, but everyone else would have died. If you had stayed, you’d have died along with me and the planet and the Daleks. No regeneration, no second chance. No us, here, now. I don’t think I made such a bad decision, looking back on it, do you?”

Rose groaned. This was exactly what she’d been fearing would happen. “You’re saying the outcome justifies the means! And that’s simply not right, and you know it’s not! The means _matter_! If a peace-treaty leads to the same borders between two countries than a war, the two options still aren’t equal to each other!” 

“Oh come on, Rose!” Now the Doctor was really annoyed. “That’s not a good analogy! And it’s not fair, either. I tried to do what was best for you, tried to at least save _you_! Why is that so bad?”

She took a deep breath, held it. Then she took a sip from her glass and waited a bit more. _Then_ she blew out a long gust of air and tried once more to make him understand. “It’s not… It’s not bad. Not the intent behind it. I’m grateful that you think I’m worth saving, I truly am. Please don’t think that I don’t appreciate it. But… Ugh, this is hard to put into words.” Rose took one more sip. Maybe more wine would make matters clearer. It usually didn’t, but they were already muddled. “Look. You deciding for me is patronizing. It’s like saying I’m not old and wise enough to make decisions for myself. I don’t think it’s what you mean to say with it, or if it’s even consciously on your mind. But … that’s how it comes across. I don’t want to be coddled; I am a grown-up. I can make my own choices and live with the consequences.”

The Doctor blinked and stayed silent. He seemed to be thinking, though maybe he’d just fallen asleep with his eyes open – wine usually made him sleepy. Rose wouldn’t even mind if he’d nodded off – the conversation was getting into uncomfortable issues that she’d rather keep under lock and key. 

While she was swirling the last of the wine in her glass, trying to decide if she wanted to keep it for later or drink it all, he visibly shook himself and spoke. “I don’t do those things to be patronizing. I… well, he, but in the same way I, didn’t do any of it for fits and giggles. I want to save the people I love, you most of all, but so many others. I’m clever and I’m quick, much quicker than humans. Sometimes, there’s just no time to talk strategy, Rose. And that’s when I decide, and honestly just hope that I’m deciding the right thing.”

“Yes, you’re right – sometimes there’s no time. But you _never_ discuss – well, discussed – these kind of things with any of us! Or did you give Martha a choice when you made her a maid in old England?”

“Oi, I didn’t decide the location! That was the Tardis, not me! I wouldn’t have…” 

“I know!” Rose held up her hand. “I know. But still, did you even think to _ask_ what place she’d think good to hide in? For some reason, I don’t believe you did.” His lips thinned when he tightened his mouth, and she thought she’d scored a point there. “And Donna – I can’t imagine the other Doctor asking her if she wanted to keep her memories.”

As soon as she said it, Rose knew she’d made a mistake. She had wanted to make him see her point, not hurt him. She’d deliberately chosen something that he hadn’t personally done to put distance between him and her point, but choosing the subject of Donna had clearly been stupid. Anything related to Donna Noble’s fate hurt, mostly, Rose thought, because it was so uncertain for him. He was here, on this world, and he knew what the metacrisis would have done to Donna but couldn’t know what the consequences had been. He’d once told her that he believed the other Doctor had saved her by taking her memories, but he’d also told her, later, that he wasn’t sure. And it scared him, she knew, this not-knowing about Donna’s fate. 

She had to admit that she knew the feeling in some way, though maybe not on the same level. Knowing Mickey had chosen to stay in their old universe was not the same at all, and yet the uncertainty of his fate was still there, similarly frightening even though the personal guilt at having been the cause of the danger Donna had been in was not quite comparable to being the reason for Mickey’s misery in all things love. 

“I’m sorry,” she hurried to say, “I… I shouldn’t have said anything.” But the Doctor held up his hand slightly, not angry or hurt but … confused. 

“Is that… is that how you think about the other me probably saving Donna’s life? That it’s a choice he would have made above her head, comparable to choosing the wrong floor-covering?”

“No,” Rose said, but something in her voice must have tipped him off because he was clearly not believing her. “Maybe?”, she ventured. “Not… but yes, in a way. Possibly.”

“Hm. Okay, let me try to get this right before I say anything about it. You think that if I saved Donna-“

“Not you,” she cut in but he waved it away. 

“Just as well would be me. So – I. If I saved Donna’s life by taking her memories of our time together…” his voice trailed off and he clearly had to fight to keep it steady. There was a pitch in it when he continued, and Rose bit her lips so she wouldn’t blurt out some horseshit just so everything would be alright again for him. “If I did that without consulting her, possibly even against her will, you would see it as objectionable?”

There was silence. Rose tried to see any way to say what she wanted to say that wouldn’t sting, but she couldn’t find it. She might shake her head and deny what she thought, but it wouldn’t be the truth and the Doctor would probably know she was lying. Finally, she decided to do it like taking off a band-aid: quick as possible. “Yes.”

There was more silence. The Doctor was clearly thinking about it, his eyes on the wine but far away. On the mantle, one of their many clocks was ticking, and Rose thought that she heard it skip a _tock_ every minute or so. All their clocks were off by minutes, some even as much as five minutes early, some five minutes late. Not a single clock showed the correct time for longer than a week in their home, no matter how accurate they’d been before ending up in their flat. The Doctor had finally decided on just having as many time-pieces as possible so he could extrapolate and come as close to the right time of day as possible. 

It was strange. Her own watches were always correct, but once she gave hers to the Doctor, it took about a week until it showed the wrong time or broke. 

“Well,” he finally said, and Rose startled a bit she’d been so far away. “That’s complete horseshit.” 

“Excuse me?” She’d been prepared for anger and maybe some pain once the Doctor realized what she meant, but this nonchalant dismissal came completely out of the blue. “You say I’m wrong about this? Do you understand what I mean?”

“Oh, of course I do. You’re saying that if Donna could only be saved by taking her memories, her own thoughts on that matter were more important than the outcome, in this case saving her life. Am I right?”

Stunned, Rose nodded.

“Well, in that case, I maintain my stance: that’s horseshit.” 

Rose took her feet down from the table and sat upright, put her glass to the side and leaned forward. Clearly, the conversation was getting even more serious than she’d anticipated. 

On his chair, the Doctor mirrored her pose. 

“Free will is the ultimate trait for humanity, Doctor. I can’t believe you, of all people, would see it this dismissible!”

“Oh, it’s not. I assure you, I still value free will and free choices very much. I just don’t place it above life. And I would have thought you wouldn’t either.”

“But… isn’t it our choice to do what we want with our life?”

“It is, and you should, but ending your life deliberately or endangering it to the point of fatality should never be done when you don’t have all the facts! Rose – why would it be right for someone as bright and as wonderful as Donna to _die_ if there was another choice? And we’re not talking about a shot to the heart, or anything as quick as that, which in itself would be terrible. We’re talking a painful death, an excruciating death. She’d have suffered until her brain liquefied, and all her potential, all of her would have been gone! Not just her memories, everything!” The Doctor was getting agitated now, not comfortable in the chair anymore. He stood and began to pace, his fingers twitching with the urge to do something, touch something. What, Rose didn’t know.

“But aren’t people build from memories? Are her memories, all the things you did with her not what formed her personality, and by that, her?”

He snorted. “No, not really. They’re what made her finally believe she was more than ‘just a temp from Chiswick’, I’ll admit that. And it … I’m sure it would be awful to know she’d be back to believing herself small and unimportant. But first – her memory of things doesn’t mean she never did them. She’s still the DoctorDonna, even when she can’t remember it. She’ll always be the DoctorDonna, and” his voice broke and he swiped his hand over his face angrily. “and nothing can ever take that away. Other people will have to remember for her, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but… that’s terrible! I… if you had to take my memories of us, of everything we did together… that. I don’t know if I could ever forgive that.”

The Doctor stopped moving and looked at her, his eyes soft and warm and frighteningly apologetic. “But Rose. You wouldn’t remember that there was something to be forgiven. And you are more than your memories – and Donna is more than her memories. Just imagine, if I got hit by a car and my brain got scrambled and I lost a part of my memories. Would I be worth nothing to you then?”

She gasped and her eyes stung with tears. “No, no! Of course not!”

“Would you stop loving me if part of our time together would be gone?”

“No”, she sniffed. “No, never.” Smiling, he came over and kneeled in front of her. He held out his hands and she took them and placed them on her heart. “Not ever, Doctor,” Rose whispered. His hands clasped her own in response.

“But why?” His voice was kind even though what he was saying was painful. “Why? If my memories are such important parts of me, why would you still love me?”

“Because you… you’re more than that,” Rose admitted with a sniff. “You’re amazing, and you’re more than what we both did together.”

His eyes were old and dark, much older than they usually were in this part-human Doctor. There was time and space in them, mixing together in their depths, and Rose wondered why she’d never seen them like this, so much like the Time Lord’s eyes with their infinite sadness and guilt. 

“And Donna Noble is much, much more than the time she spent with me, too. I love her, Rose. Not like I love you, but I love her with all my heart and I know the other Doctor feels the same way. He loves her, and if there was a chance of saving her life with the memories intact, he would have done that. He wouldn’t take the easy way just because it is convenient. And while we both have a bit of a martyr-complex, it’s not like he or I deliberately set out to be miserable. In fact, we’d both rather be happy.” 

Rose hiccupped a laugh. Indeed, the new new Doctor and the new new _new_ Doctor had been adamant on being happy. It hadn’t always worked out, she knew, but … he’d tried. 

“If there had been a flick of a chance, Donna will still be with him. If not, and if he hadn’t left it for too long, she will be alive and wonderful and will have forgotten about us. And that’s hard, and it’s not fair, and,” he sniffed “it’s bloody awful, to be honest. But even though she would never say it, never believe it: she is worth more than her memory of great times. You ask if he’d have done it against her wish, right?”

Rose nodded, not quite able to speak with him so close, so intimate, so open and honest. He quirked a forced smile, obviously not a happy one. 

“I wish he wouldn’t have had to, but yes. Yes, he would have. And I would have, too. And I know it scares you,” she only now noticed she’d tried to withdraw her hand from him and consciously forced herself not to, even though his grip was loose and he would have let her go at once. “and it scares me, too. It’s a break of trust, and it’s … it’s horrible, but we still would have done it to save her life. Even against her will. And I would do that to save yours, too – but I can’t. I promise I can’t, though you might not believe me and … I’d understand. It makes me sick, imagining it. But it’s your _life_ Rose. It’s Donna’s life. Her future, all those choices yet to come. All the things to still do and see; and maybe it’s not the Ood-Sphere, or Agatha Christie, but that doesn’t mean it’s worthless.”

He pulled another bitter smile. 

“She’s a person, has a character. Has family and friends and a life of her own. Maybe she’s not a great hero in her future, but … she might be. Should all of her potential cease to exist just because she doesn’t know and can’t _see_ her own worth? She’s not worthless! She as Donna is just as wonderful and just as valuable as the DoctorDonna, and I feel gutted that you would consider her less valuable than a bit of remembered fun and adventure. She thought our travel together made her brilliant, and it breaks my heart to imagine her back to the beginning thinking she is basically rubbish. That isn’t true and has never been true – even though I’ve been possibly a bit mean to her in the beginning.” He looked away, maybe thinking back to the first time he’d met her. “You know,” he continued, validating Rose’s guess. “First time we met, she stepped in front of a line of machineguns to save me.”

She blinked. He’d not told her that before. “What happened? I thought… didn’t she get kidnapped by the Racnoss-Queen?”

“Well, in a way.” He smiled in fond memory and slumped so he was now sitting on his bum instead of kneeling. “Her fiancé had set her up to be fed to the Queen’s children, which is what made her appear in my – the Tardis. Right in her wedding-dress.” Now he fully grinned, and it was good to see him smile. Him being emotional like this was strange for Rose to witness, as it made the Doctor human in a way he’d not quite been before. “Anyway, we ran a bit and she yelled a lot and I was rude and she was ginger, and then the Racnoss had us at gunpoint from her android minions and the Queen wanted me shot and Donna stepped right in front of me. She didn’t even know me, not really, and I hadn’t behaved very likable, but she still pushed me back and stepped out for me, shielding me because she thought the Racnoss wouldn’t order them to shoot _her_ as she was still needed.”

Rose bit her lip, thinking back to the Donna she had met in the pocket-universe, unsure and self-conscious, with a sharp mouth that hid her fear and her sense of unworthiness. And yet that same person had, in the end, decided to die just because some mad-woman told her that if she did it, she could save the world and prevent all the horrible things from happening. 

She swallowed. The Doctor was right. Even without time-travel, without ever having met the Doctor, Donna Noble had been a hero. Maybe not in a cape or with a gun strapped to her thigh, but she’d not needed all that much persuasion to shuck her narrow world and step up to do something fantastically stupid and brave. 

Oblivious to her own memories, the Doctor continued. “That was Donna. Brash and brave, and so, so brilliant. And she deserves the chance to be brilliant once more. If her life from then on will consist of marriage, kids and a mortgage instead of time and space – well. As long as that makes her happy, that’s fine! I know she would fight tooth and nail for her children, if she has any, and she’ll be a fantastic mother. She’ll be brilliant in her own universe, and I don’t care if it’s small! It’s hers! Who knows, maybe there’s more in her life still to come. Maybe she’ll save the world again, maybe by accident, maybe by choice. Wouldn’t put it past her. Maybe she’ll write a book and be a great author, or her children and grandchildren will become important, or maybe nothing of that and they’ll just be happy. It’s so hard, being happy, and I wish nothing more for her future. There’s so much still possible for her, but letting her die, letting her have a wish she didn’t even know the full extent of, would have robbed her of every possibility yet to come. How in the world would that have been better? Why would anyone want her cease to exist? Even if her life will be unremarkable, it’s worth something! Is the life of a postman worth less than the life of a president, or a time-traveller? In regards to humanity, I’d argue the postman is worth a lot more than a time-traveller. Most times, time-travellers are rubbish at being valuable members of society. And yet humans tend to judge others by their profession first, and then they call _me_ arrogant!” The Doctor chuckled mirthlessly. “ _I_ never diminish anyone’s chosen profession – that’s your lot’s way of thinking. Life is worth more than a profession, a name, a bank-account or a memory; anyone’s life is, but especially hers! And if you say that I’m making decisions for others, for you and for Martha and Donna and Sarah Jane-“

Rose hadn’t mentioned Sarah Jane, but of course she had been on his mind all by herself. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about her, too – the similarities were obviously there.

“- then maybe that’s true, but it’s because I see – or at least used to be able to see – the potential in them and never once thought they would be better off dead than being not with me. How arrogant would that be, believing I’m so amazing that nothing else will ever compare?”

She thought about Sarah Jane, waiting for so long because she, indeed, had thought that nothing compared to the Doctor, and life with him. Rose herself would have once upon a time said that there is nothing on any world as fantastic as life in the Tardis, but lately she had come to suspect that it truly depended on what you did with the cards you were dealt. Before they’d had the vortex-hopper, Rose and her Doctor had been Earth-bound, and had life not been quite thrilling on its own? Had she not made a career she’d never even imagined when she’d been stuck here without any form of Doctor, at Torchwood? 

“And it’s not like humans don’t ever choose for others!” He jumped up and swept his hand through his hair, making it stand up on end. He was the poster-image of ‘frustration’ now, wild-eyed and wild-haired and a little bit frantic. “People make choices for others all the time, even against their wishes. If a teenager falls unhappily in love and wants to die, their parents will prevent that at all costs, right? And if a patient is begging for death and the physician knows they’ll survive and be fine after the pain and sickness is over, they don’t let them die, either! Because those people, the patient and the teenager, they don’t know everything. They only have a narrow view on things, and they simply don’t _know_ enough.”

Rose crossed her arms in front of her. “And you do?”

“Yes! Yes, I do. I know it sounds arrogant to you, but I do. I truly do know better. Not everything, mind, but many things I simply know better than humans. And I don’t just know from books and from reading, but from experience. Maybe in my special case not my own experience, but it’s close, and it certainly counts for other-me. He has experienced a lot, and I remember it all. When I say that death by having your conscience rip you apart will be excruciating in the literal sense of the word, then I say it because I have felt similar, and I know humans can’t take it. Call me arrogant or snobbish or whatnot, but I _do_ know what humans can take and what not. As human-me, I know definitely that I wouldn’t be able to take half – ah, not even a quarter! – of what Time Lord Me had to take. ‘Headache’ doesn’t cover it, and ‘migraine’ is still too small a word to even come close.”

With his eyes ablaze, the Doctor paced through the room like a caged animal. He was pure motion and emotion, everything in him was screaming for some kind of release, maybe for her understanding or maybe for something else Rose didn’t know about. She bit her lips and watched, curled up on the couch once more, not knowing what to do or say. 

“Do I make mistakes? Of course I do! I’m not a god, and I’d argue that even gods make mistakes – if they even exist. But I’m not exaggerating the agony Donna would have been in. Who would want someone they love to die like that when there is a choice that will let them live? Would you – truly – want to have your brain liquefied in exchange for a few memories? Even if they are amazing?” He stopped moving and looked at her, arms crossed defensively, forcing her to think about an answer. 

It was hard. On the one hand, the idea of having her memories wiped out, all the times with the Doctor, all the lives they saved and all the growing up she had done with him made her physically sick. Wasn’t that worth more than a little bit of pain before things were over?

But there was the catch. It would be over. _Over_ , forever-and-ever. Nothing anymore. Her last moments would be screaming, agonizing pain and having the Doctor and her family witness her death. Rose couldn’t imagine the pain the Doctor was describing, but she knew that was a human protective mechanism. Human brains buried pain and the true recollection of it. Otherwise, nobody would ever have more than one child, she remembered reading somewhere. And men would walk about in testicle-protecting clothes. Human brains simply weren’t made to recall the true awfulness of agony so they could go on living instead of being afraid for every step they took. 

She had to believe the Doctor when he said it would be truly debilitating, and nothing a human would be able to take. 

Would she want to force him, or anyone she loved, to witness her screaming, horrible death just so she could cling to a few lovely memories? And would she even be able to hold these memories in her last moments of life? If she couldn’t hang on to them anyway, what would be the point in dying for them?

“I… I don’t think so. No. But why would he – or you – have to choose without her input? It’s still the carpet-dilemma. Even if the old carpet is rotten and you _need_ a new one. Why not talk about it first?”

The Doctor took a breath and bit his lips. Then he scratched at his eyebrow until he finally looked back at her. “That is a good point. In my other-me’s defence, I doubt there was enough time for him to make Donna really see and understand what was at stake before he had to do something. If he’d waited too long, the damage to her brain would have already been too huge to save her anyway. But in other moments of life… I see what you’re getting at.”

Rose smiled tentatively and held out her hand, pulling him to her side when he took it. He sagged against the couch’s backrest and deliberately tried to calm himself down. They leaned against each other, for a few moments not talking, just feeling the other’s skin and heartbeat and warmth. 

“I can sort of see why you didn’t talk to me on the Game Station, though,” Rose murmured finally. “I think… I think I would have taken a lot of time to understand, and in the end I might have stayed anyway. Despite knowing I could have been saved. I’m not saying I like that you tricked me, but… I think I’ll have to be honest here and say that I’d have done exactly the same if our roles were reversed.”

As she would have done on Canary Wharf, but she wouldn’t tell him so. He might get too big a head and think she condoned such actions for the future! 

“That’s good to know,” he whispered back. “I will have to be extra-careful to not end up in a situation where such a move would be necessary. Maybe that’s all we can do, after all… Always keep sight of our way out.”

Rose smiled and wriggled harder against his side. “I like that. And don’t expect me to stay out of trouble.”

At this, he laughed. “I wish I could tie you up to keep you safe forever, but you wouldn’t be Rose Tyler if that would stop you from going out into the fray. No, Rose. I will never expect you to stay out of trouble.” He looked down and smiled right into her heart, serious for once. “I’ll trust you to find a way out, though. And if you can’t see one – trust _me_. There is very little I wouldn’t do for you.”

Something warm and sharp sliced into her heart, something amazing and a little bit scary. Something she would treasure forever now, knowing she was loved this much. 

Rose already knew the Doctor – every incarnation of him – could save someone else over her. Even her Doctor had left her in the 18th century, on a pirate-ship, captured by the British Navy to save her brother from drowning. He’d jumped through time and left her abandoned, and it had been the absolute right thing to do. 

Before that, there had been times where Rose had questioned his ability to do such a thing, to put the bigger picture above her needs and safety, and it had been terrifying and exhilarating at the same time to get confirmation that if it came to it, this Doctor would still save the world even if it meant losing her. 

On that thought, she gave him a proper snog and curled even more into him, wanting to show him her feelings even if he couldn’t understand her reasons for them. He might always be a bit heavy-handed with his parental approach to humans. It wasn’t like his occasionally stand-offish mannerism and arrogance always made him friends. In fact, he could be a terrible arsehole to people he didn’t like. Rose secretly loved that, liked watching him take someone down a peg or three. He had a knack of identifying the buffoons at formal functions, and she found herself watching him be a real prick to them without shame was a joy she indulged in whenever she was able to. Sometimes, she caught her father watch as well, and they would toast at themselves with champagne over a crowded room until one or the other would go into the fray to rescue the poor bastards from being verbally eviscerated. Her mom, bless her, always refused to do that. She never watched but would always make sure the Doctor had the best nibbles whenever he returned from those tasks, so Rose knew she was aware. 

It was quite interesting that the Doctor’s victims sometimes came back, but always managed to stay out of his way the next time. 

“You know I’ll never stop trying to save you, too, right?”, she said later, when they were snuggled in bed. “If something happened and you were in danger, I will do everything I can. Even stupid, reckless, irresponsible things.”

He kissed her shoulder. “I know. It will still take some getting used to, not always thinking for the human at my side and instead letting them make their own choices. Trying to change roughly eight hundred and something years of habit might need some adjustment, now and then.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure you get adjusted,” she smirked and laid her head on his chest. For a while she just enjoyed the moment and vaguely though back on the times they’d had together so far. On the bad time, in the beginning, when both of them had been unsure about their lots in life and their place in each other’s space. On the exciting time, being abducted and getting lost and … yeah, and all that. And on the in-between-time, when they were closer than she’d ever been with the other Doctor and doing all the dreaded domestic stuff. She snickered.

“Hm?” 

“You know, adjusting to this life also means having a passport.”

“Hm-hmmm.” 

“And having a passport requires an address.”

“Hmm. Got one, don’t I?”

“Yeah.” She kissed his collarbone and made him chuckle when her hair got into his face and tickled. “’Course you do. But Doctor…”

“Hm?”

“A passport also requires a name, you know?”

“Really?”, he whined with a groan and threw his hand theatrically over his face. “Do I _have_ to?” 

Yes, Rose thought. Yes, this was all terribly domestic. But they were anything but normal, and they would never be anything but themselves. They might change, as everyone did throughout life, and things might happen to them, but they would forever be … well. Them. Rose Tyler and the Doctor-with-a-proper-name-one-day, hopping through time and space and being … fantastic.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again. This fic and the issues within have been sitting in my head for a long time. Now I've finally found a way to bring them to paper (as it were) and I'm quite pleased with it. I hope you'll like it and understand my view of things, and I would love to hear your thoughts on it, too.  
> I personally don't see Rose as doubting the Doctor's choices as much as Rose in my fic does, but I couldn't think of any other person he would have this conversation with so I chose her. I think I did okay with keeping her in character. 
> 
> So, with this fic we've come full circle in my Parallel-Issues-series. I might come back and visit it one day, as there are some things I haven't done yet that I would like to visit (I so need Donna, Rose and the Doctor in Woodstock!), but for now, I think this is a good place to put it to rest. Thank all who read and commented or kudos'ed and I hope I'll see you again some day.   
> Bye! ~Marlowe~


End file.
